


Hard Candy Christmas

by QueensChalice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Post-Hogwarts, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 18:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueensChalice/pseuds/QueensChalice
Summary: Neither of them has anywhere better to be, and Hermione and Draco are both working late on Christmas Eve. Hermione shares her favorite peppermint-flavored treats with Draco. One-shot. Smut with a side of plot. Post-Hogwarts. EWE.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published December 2015 on ff.net

_This is a not-for-profit work of fanfiction. I don’t own Harry Potter. Or, unfortunately, Draco Malfoy. This story is not intended for children. I woke up Christmas morning from a very inappropriate dream involving peppermint sticks. The following is the result of that dream._

xXx

It was Christmas Eve, and Draco Malfoy was the last one in the Premier Potions office building. He’d brushed off his secretary’s token concerns by saying, “The dragon pox vaccines are time sensitive, and as CEO, the responsibility falls to me to ensure that there are no mistakes in the new formula.” She’d smiled, mollified if not entirely convinced of his motives for staying behind, and skipped off to spend the evening with her loving husband and beautiful two-point-five children.

After she left, Draco buried his head in his hands and sighed loudly. His father was half-dead in Azkaban, his mother was all but catatonic and could hardly tell the difference between her son and a turnip these days, and Astoria had run off a month ago with some French twat who didn’t have a faded Dark Mark on his forearm.

Dragon pox vaccines aside, Draco had nowhere better to be than in his office, feeling sorry for himself.

He was so busy wallowing that he hardly heard the rapping at his door.

A second, more insistent knock jarred him from his thoughts, and his head snapped up in surprise. Who in the bloody hell could possibly still be left at work at – he glanced at the clock – eight o’clock on Christmas Eve?

“Who in the bloody hell is still at work at eight o’clock on Christmas Eve?” he called, forcing irritation in his voice to conceal his curiosity.

The door creaked open and a familiar figure stepped into his office. “Well, you are, for starters,” was the cheeky response he received from his head of Research and Development.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Why are you here, Granger?”

She set two steaming mugs on his desk and plopped into a chair. “Same reason as you, I’d imagine. Trying to perfect the dragon pox vaccine before the spring term at Hogwarts begins,” said Hermione with an arched eyebrow. “Don’t you have anywhere better to be tonight?”

“Don’t you?” responded Draco rather snappishly, as he slid coasters under Granger’s offending mugs. The woman had no respect for handcrafted mahogany, despite the numerous lectures he’d given her on the subject. He was beginning to think she was doing it on purpose.

“I don’t,” she said simply. “No family nearby, as you know,” she paused for a moment as a dark look crossed her face. Draco did know. Her parents were still in Australia, and still mighty upset with her about the spellwork she’d performed on them during the war. “And as much fun as it sounded to spend Christmas with the Weasleys, watching Ron slobber like Fang all over his latest groupie,” Hermione shuddered and Draco smothered a snicker, “I decided my time would be best spent working.”

“For the children,” Draco smirked. “You can take the girl out of Gryffindor, but you can’t take the Gryffindor out of the girl.”

“Yes, ferret-boy, for the children. And it would appear that, despite your best efforts to present yourself to the public as the same rotten little Slytherin bastard you’ve always been, you seem care about the children too.”

Draco gave a little cough. “Yes, well. It was a wise investment.”

“Bollocks. The profit margin on this vaccine is mediocre at best.”

“It’s a long-term investment. Less deaths from dragon pox equals more consumers of our other products in the long run.”

Hermione looked unconvinced. “Draco Malfoy cares about school children,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“I do not!” he insisted. “I hate children. They ask annoying questions. Much like some adults that I know.” He stared pointedly at Hermione, and she rolled her eyes in response.

Draco wasn’t sure when exactly the barbs that he traded with Hermione Granger had transformed from malicious to flirtatious, but at some point over the year that they’d worked together, they had definitely stopped hating each other. She had grown out of some of her more swotty tendencies, and he had come to appreciate her swift intellect. It also turned out that she was a lot nicer to him when he wasn’t being a total prick to her.

“Whatever, Malfoy.” She nudged one of the steaming mugs toward him. “While you’re busy hating children, why don’t you sip on this? It’s one of my favorite Christmas traditions. Muggle, but I think you’ll like it.”

“Drinking hot chocolate on Christmas is hardly exclusive to Muggles,” said Draco, eyeing the contents of his mug with a sneer.

“I know that,” she said patiently. “But do wizarding recipes call for peppermint schnapps?”

“Peppermint… schnapps? What are schnapps?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s a kind of peppermint flavoring,” she answered vaguely. “Just try it. It’s wonderful.”

With one last skeptical glance at his drink, he took a tentative sip. “Oh!” he exclaimed, and took another drink. “It’s delicious.”

Hermione smiled into her own mug as Draco enthusiastically downed his hot chocolate as quickly as he could without burning himself. “I told you so. Now aren’t you sorry for doubting me?”

His cheeks felt suddenly warm, and his spirits significantly lifted. “I am. I should know by now not to question your wit and charm and beauty and…” Draco trailed off, realizing that he was saying much more than he’d meant to. “Wait. What the hell did you put in my drink?”

“Peppermint schnapps. Just like I told you.” Hermione looked way too smug for his comfort.

“Schnapps are… Is... You… You’re trying to get me drunk!” accused Draco.

“Is it working?” The grin had yet to leave her face.

“Of course not,” Draco snapped. “Who do you think I am? An eleven-year-old girl? It takes more than just one drink to get me good and pissed.”

“That’s too bad. You’re a lot more pleasant to be around after you’ve tossed a few back.”

Draco leered at her. “You have no idea how pleasant I am after I’ve _tossed_ a few back,” he said with a lewd wink.

Hermione snorted, almost choking on the remainder of her own hot chocolate. “Case in point, Malfoy. You’re never this funny sober.” Her head tilted to one side as she chose her next words. “And besides, maybe I’d like to know how pleasant you can be, given those circumstances.”

While the schnapps had inhibited the filter Draco normally kept in place between his brain and his mouth, his senses were by no means dulled by the drink. He considered Hermione’s innuendo in response to his own, and came to a decision.

“Well, Christmas is, after all, a time for giving to the less fortunate,” said Draco smoothly as he leaned down to the bottom drawer of his desk. “Ogden’s Finest, oak barrel aged for twenty years,” he explained as he set out two tumblers – onto coasters, of course – and poured several finger-widths into each.

“Are you implying that I’m the ‘less fortunate’ here?” asked Hermione dryly as she accepted the proffered drink.

“That remains to be seen,” replied Draco. “Sorry I don’t have a ‘kind of peppermint flavoring’ to offer with it, but I do assure you that you can’t find better firewhiskey anywhere.”

Grinning, Hermione reached into the pocket of her cardigan. “Luckily I came prepared with more Muggle Christmastime delights,” she said, producing the largest peppermint stick Draco had ever seen. It had a length and a girth comparable to… well… and Draco gritted his teeth together to keep his jaw from dropping open.

She smiled innocently at him as she peeled the cellophane wrapper off of her peppermint stick, Draco’s grasp tightening on his glass as she gave the stick a long, languorous lick from bottom to top. She met his gaze as she paused at the tip to swirl her tongue around a few times before engulfing it entirely with her mouth. Draco shifted in his seat, his trousers suddenly feeling too tight.

Finally releasing it with a soft _pop_ , Hermione held her peppermint stick out to him. “Fancy a lick?”

Mutely, Draco leaned forward and flicked his tongue against the candy in a way that had Hermione shifting in her own chair. He gave it one last thorough swipe before leaning back and clearing his throat softly.

“Cheers, Granger.” Draco lifted his tumbler and she clinked her glass against his.

The combination of peppermint with the flavor of his firewhiskey was strange but not entirely unpleasant. If the contemplative way that Hermione licked her lips after tipping back her own glass was any indication, she held the same sentiment.

Draco leaned back in his leather office chair as he watched Hermione rise from her seat and make her way around to sit on his desk in front of him. He eyed her knee-length skirt appreciatively and wondered if the fabric covering her legs was a pair of tights or thigh-high socks. His hands itched to find out.

He looked up at her face and she gave her peppermint stick another nice, long suck before announcing, “Your move, Malfoy.”

Wasting no time at the invitation, he stood and let his hands settle on her knees, tracing small circles with his thumbs. As his hands slid up her legs – thigh-high socks it was – Draco leaned close to her and tasted her peppermint stick again, letting the sticky candy coat his mouth completely, before closing the remaining distance between their lips.

Their first kiss was delicious and sloppy, tasting of peppermint and firewhiskey. Their tongues met and his fingertips dug into the bare skin of her thighs, while her free hand reached up to tangle in his soft blond hair.

When they finally surfaced for air, Hermione was smirking at Draco’s disheveled appearance, but her smug look was quickly replaced when Draco’s mouth found the pulse point on her neck and gave it a gentle nip. He grinned into her neck as she allowed a soft sigh to escape, and he let his fingers drift farther up, where they found lace at the join of her legs.

He was delighted to discover that her knickers were already damp, and his cock twitched eagerly in response. He gave the waistband a little tug, and she obligingly lifted her bottom to allow him to slide her panties off. His hand rubbed over bare flesh and Hermione gave him a full-on moan in return, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his face.

Draco looked up at her then and smiled. “Your move, Granger.”

Hermione groaned in frustration, but to her credit, she didn’t waste time. Popping the peppermint stick into her mouth, she made quick work of the buttons on her blouse and shoved her bra down, effectively creating a shelf for her exposed breasts. Then Draco watched in admiration as she used her saliva-dampened candy to trace around her nipples, coating them in sweet minty juices as they hardened into little peaks.

A low growl emanated from somewhere in the back of his throat as Hermione popped the candy back into her mouth, before pulling up her skirt and repeating the entire process on the folds between her thighs.

She then pressed the peppermint stick against Draco’s lips and said again, “Your move, Malfoy.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment as he reconciled the prudish bookworm he’d known since childhood with the woman in front of him who probably could have taught a porn star a thing or two. It was a beautiful dichotomy.

The peppermint stick tasted like both pussy and candy, which was another beautiful dichotomy, in Draco’s humble opinion. He sucked it clean and then moved on to her breasts to do the same.

By the time he was kneeling between her legs, Hermione’s breaths were coming in short pants. He licked her once with a wide, flat tongue, all the way from the bottom to the top, and she arched so severely that her hips lifted off the desk in an attempt to follow his mouth. Placing one hand on her abdomen to hold her down, he murmured, “Lay back on the desk.”

Hermione complied with the request, and he took the peppermint stick from her, coating his lips with the candy again before burying his face between her legs. Draco nipped and sucked and devoured her until she was on the precipice of release, then he leaned back on his heels and admired Hermione’s flushed, glistening womanhood.

She whimpered at the loss of contact. He tugged her legs over his shoulders, and reaching out with one hand, began rubbing small circles over her clit with the pad of his thumb. He then dragged the tip of the peppermint stick up and down her slit a few times before angling it against her opening.

His circles stopped and he said darkly, “Your move, Granger.”

Hesitating for only a split second, Hermione dug her heels into Draco’s back for leverage and pushed against the peppermint stick, impaling herself on it only an inch or so. Draco’s mouth immediately replaced his thumb, and giving the peppermint stick a little twist, brought her to climax within seconds. She gave a ragged cry as she bucked into his face and the candy, riding out her orgasm.

Draco stood swiftly, undoing his pants to let his cock spring free. He thrust into her without warning, and brought the peppermint stick to Hermione’s mouth, allowing her to taste her own pleasure on the candy as he drove into her.

Another orgasm followed quickly, and Draco grunted in smug satisfaction as her walls clenched down on him. He gave her only a brief reprieve before lifting her, flipping her over, and resuming his thrusts with her bent over his desk.

After he felt her shudder around him a third time, he finally allowed himself his own release, coming inside her with hot, thick spurts. He dabbed at the sheen of sweat on his brow with the back of one hand, and gave her bottom a gentle, affectionate smack with the other.

He pulled out of her and collapsed back into his chair, gathering her into his arms and taking her with him. From her position nestled in his lap, she could still reach his desk, and took full advantage of that fact by refilling their glasses with firewhiskey.

Handing him one tumbler, Hermione raised her own in a toast. “Cheers, Malfoy.”

He touched his glass to hers, tossed the drink back, and grinned down at her like a rakish school boy who’d just avoided detention. For the life of him, Draco couldn’t remember why he’d been feeling so sorry for himself earlier.

“Happy Christmas, Granger,” he said, and he meant it. She smiled brightly in return, and his mouth descended upon hers in a kiss sweeter than a peppermint-flavored one could ever be.

The End.

xXx

_EDIT: Immediately following this encounter, Hermione performed a very powerful cleansing charm on herself because, as one reviewer pointed out, putting candy in your vag is a good way to get an infection. Hermione recommends that you choose your phallic food items carefully, should you decide to let your boss bang you with said food item on his desk. She also suggests that allowing a company quill to be dipped in your inkpot, so to speak, may not be the most ethical business practice, but in the case of one Draco Malfoy, she’s willing to make a personal exception._


End file.
